A Song of Fire and Night
by Silent-OverKill
Summary: Jon, Robb and Daenerys always try to make the best of a bad situation. But this situation; their kindom in the hands of an enemy, their lives in danger and nowhere for them to run, might just be the one that kills them. With nothing in the world except each other they have fight to regain their lives and their freedom or suffer the world to a malicious feral enemy. JonXDaenerys
1. Prologue 1

Disclaimer: I own no part of _Game of Thrones_

Prologue 1

He was just a young boy, a bastard who had never known his mother but was raised by his father. Living in a castle along side his half brother and his fathers wife who hated him fiercly. The world saw him as a mistake, branded a Snow and left in the world to be disrespected and pay for his fathers adultary. But he held together, even in the worst of times he kept his composure, on the outside anyway. No one ever knew the turmoil that pulled him apart from the inside out.

He was a bastard and he was the second born son of his father Eddard Stark, King in the North. Jon would never be seen as a lord or a king and his father knew that. His older brother Robb born only a few months before he was raised to one day be the King in the North. Robb and Jon both trained physically and mentaly but not the same. Eddard saw the future for his two sons and so he made sure that Robb was trained more mentally, he made his son read more strategic books than war books. For all of Robb's sparring sessions with Jon he had twice the study sessions with the maester. And at the age of thirteen Eddard began to bring Robb with him to the battle chamber where he would allow the boy to sit and listen to the King and his advisors plan out there battles, sometimes allowing Robb to advise in their strategies.

Jon on the other hand was trained much more physically. He was taught to read and write and anything else essential to having a knowledgeable existence but he spent more time fighting and sparring, training with swords, daggers, bow n arrows, spears, axes, hammers even crossbows. His father never let up on him because even though Jon would never be the King in the North, Ned still had great hopes for what his son was to be.

"Father, why can I not play like the other children. Why must I train so hard. Even Robb doesn't have to fight all day. Why must I?" Jon was only nine when he asked his father that.

"Because, Jon, even though you don't have my last name you are still my son and I expect great things from my sons." The King had answered.

"You speak as though I am to be a King someday. Robb is your successor, and I'm a bastard..."

"Robb is my successor, yes. And you are a bastard, yes. But you will not always be the bastard of King Eddard Stark. You must tell me now. Will you be just another bastard?"

"I don't want to..."

"Will you be just another bastard?" Ned asked him again, voice more stern.

"No." Jon said.

"I don't believe you. Will you be just another bastard?"

"No, I wont." Jon spoke conviction apparent in his voice.

"Will you train your body and mind without question?"

"Yes, I will." The same conviction.

"What kind of man will you be?"

"I will be great." Jon stood straight, his practice sword stuck into the ground in front of him.

Ned held his head high and looked down on his son. The stern look on his face was replaced by a smile. "Then it is settled. You will be the next Guardian of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros."

Jons eyes went wide as the sea. He never expected his father would ever seek to bestow such an honor on him. "But father am I worthy of the title?"

"I have already nominated your name. And you have been accepted by The Counsil of Kings. You and the other six nominees will enter the trials when you are of age. You will be the last to come of age and at the age of eleven you will be the youngest to ever be put through the trials."

"And I will be the youngest to win." Jon said confidently.

"Yes you will."

Jon trained fiercly without question from that day on. He went to the trials when he was eleven. He conquered the trials by the age of twelve. He was proclaimed the successor to the guardian of the realm and spent the next six months training with the current guardian, Rhaegar Targaryen.

At the fourty fourth nameday of King Eddard Stark every Royal family from the Seven Kindoms flocked to Nightfell for the celebration. Ladies, Lords, Kings and Queens alike all attended. Ned Stark was amoung the most beloved of all the noblemen in Westeros.

Jon and Robb sat on either side of their father drinking their wine and laughing along to the cheerful banter that surrounded everyone. It was the best of times. A break if you will. It was a break for the king from running his kingdom and it was a break for Robb and Jon from their training.

The king stood up to make a toast but the loud talking remained. Ned looked to his sons who knew what he expected from them. They loved this part. With smiles the two lifted their cups and with their empty hands they pounded on the table with all their might in unison. The loud sound got the attention of the closer tables and the others began to join in, more and more people until the entirety of the masses were pounding in rythm with one another. The king held out his hand to silence them all.

"I would like to make a speech." He cleared his throat. "I would like to thank everyone who've come to Nightfell to celebrate my nameday. I'm curtainly thankful to the gods for allowing me to live so long, I should be dead ten times over my bestfriend Robert is a testament to that." He lifted his glass as King Baratheon raised his cup to the man.

"Aye, you've saved my drunken ass more times than I can count!" Robert yelled in all his drunken glory.

Eddard nodded at the man. "I only wish my wife could have been here, to see my only two sons proceeding on to great things. Robb; the soon to be King in the North, and Jon; the soon to be Guardian of the Realm." He looked at the two, eyes glassed over with undropped tears. "To my sons."

Jon and Robb stood up next to him. "To you." They said together as their cups raised.

"To the King in the North!" The crowd cheered as metal goblets clanked and wine spilled.

The festivities continued on, a line of people stood in front of the Grand Table, all holding a gift for the king.

"Your grace." The foremost man bowed. A man who looked to be dornish lifted a large barrel and set it onto the table. "A barrel of Grand Cru, from the furthest reaches of The Arbor. A vintage gold aged for a hundred years."

"This is true?" Ned asked the man.

"I would not lie to you. My king." He answered.

"I thought the last barrel of this was destroyed." Ned's fingers ghosted over the barrel. His eyes found the man again. "A fine gift my friend!" Ned stood to gracefully shake the mans hand.

"I'm so glad you like it, your grace." The man bowed once more before he took his leave.

Ned lifted the barrel in excitement before setting down next to him on the ground.

The next man stepped up. Shoulder length silver hair lay frigid on his head. A coy unsettling smile on his face.

"Your grace." He bowed his head slightly. "A gift for my king." He snapped his fingers and a girl moved forward.

She was beautiful with hair much like the mans but longer. Fair skin surrounding purple eyes, her body wrapped loosly in a silver dress. Pale pink lips parted and her eyes downcast. She was beautiful yes, but she was young. A child as young if not even younger than his own sons.

"This child?" Ned asked in genuine confusion.

"Yes." He swallowed hard. "My sister, she is very obedient."

"Your sister." Ned repeated now having even less respect for the boy.

Jon and Robb looked at the man in bewilderment.

"And what use do I have for a ten year old girl?" Ned asked with a sharp tongue.

"Twelve." The man corrected. Ned wasn't amused. "Well, my grace... she uhm.. she sings."

"Does she?" Ned asked, the same dissapointment in his voice.

"Y-Yes." He gave her a harsh nudge. "Sing something." He whispered harshly to her.

The girl openned her mouth slowly and let a melody of vast beauty escape. A sound so beautiful it could make the gods weep.

"My." Jon said a look of pure shock on his face. He openned his mouth but couldn't speak. He was speechless. "Beautiful." He sighed staring at the girl.

"My son is right. She has a wonderful voice. But I think I'm a bit too old for lullabies." The room erupted into laughter at the king's joke.

The silver haired man seethed silently but kept his anger down.

"I thank you for the gesture but I don't take slaves." Ned waved them off.

The man turned his anger to his little sister, jaw tensed, beedy eyes squinting at her. He mumbled something under his breath as he snatched her by her arm. He yanked her along and the force caused her right shoulder strap to fall revealing a fresh blueish purple bruise. It was a horrid blemish and it stared them all in the face. The kings eyes narrowed at the bruise.

"The girl may stay." He spoke loud, voice stretching across the room.

The man turned back to face them. His head held low and stiff, his eyes spread across them holding hatred and fire, anyone could see. But his face split into a creepy grin and he bowed once again. "I am glad." He stepped forward with her again.

"What is your name?" Ned asked her.

"Her name is..."

"I believe... I was asking the girl." Ned cut the snake resembling man's words short.

"My appologies, my king." He bowed his head slightly. "Answer him." He whispered nudging the girl again.

"M-my name is Daenerys." She said hesitantly, holding her head low.

"Lift your head so that I may hear you." Ned looked at her.

She lifted her head with her eyes glued to the floor.

"My name is Daenerys." She spoke louder.

"And you are only twelve?" He asked. She nodded. "You have a wonderful voice for a child." He said in his softest voice as to refrain from frightening her. She finally looked at the man, fighting the hint of a smile that threatened to appear.

"Thank you, your grace."

"Would you like to have a seat?" He offered and a guard immediately took an empty chair from the nearest table and set it down at the kings table for her.

"Thank you." Her voice barely above a whisper. She took a seat with her hands clasped in her lap.

"Are you hungry?" Jon asked. She only looked at him and nodded slightly. He slid her a plate containing a portion of most of the food at the table. She began to eat slowly and in small pieces.

The king turned his gaze upon the sly man once more. "You may take your leave."

"Of course, your grace. May the remainder of your name day be as merry as ever." He flashed his signature grin once more before walking away.

Daenerys turned in her chair to watch her brother walk away, sad and longing amethyst eyes clung to his retreating form until he could no longer be seen. Even after he disappeared she stared at the door that he had walked through.

 **A/N: Thank you for reading my story. I hope you enjoyed it so far. It is my first fanfiction about Game of Thrones, i actually only recently began to watch GoT and I ended up binging on it for about 2 weeks until i saw every single episode and now I have a new favorite tv show. Anyways...** **Q/A just incase the summary doesn't explain it all. Yes Jon and Robb are Ned's only sons in this. Yes Ned is the King in the north. In this story every kingdom is run by a king or queen, all seven. The Guardian is an original idea of mine. The guardian is chosen from the best warrior from all seven kingdoms and is something like the nights watch, oath and all except the guardian works alone. I got the idea while watching Warcraft. Also Nightfell is a replacement for Winterfell. I have nothing against Winterfell I just really like Nightfell better and I really wanted to go OC for this book. Im not sure yet if I'll make Daenerys a Targaryen or not I'm still debating with myself.** **Ok now if there are any other questions please ask them and I'll try my best to answer them. Thank you, thank you very much.**


	2. Prologue 2

Prologue 2

After the festiveties had ended Ned had his family's most trusted maid draw the girl a bath with explicit instructions to take note of every bruise she saw.

The woman did as told and drew the girl a warm bath. She helped the child undress taking her hand and leading her into the large tub that sat in the middle of the room. The woman's eyes surveyed the porcelain skin of the girl, skipping from bruise to scrape to scratch. She had angry mark on her breasts like someone had grabbed her rughly there. She had bite marks on her thighs and rope burns on her ankles.

The elderly lady's breath hitched in her throat at the sight, she shut her eyes tightly praying silently under her breath.

Daenerys crawled into the tub and pulled her knees to her chest. Hugging them as the woman used a thick wash cloth to clean delicately at her wounds, the girl slightly relaxing at the soft touch and the heat of the water.

Ned waited as the woman emerged from the bathroom, a look of solumn sorrow plastered upon her features. She looked at the king and simply shook her head, speechless and heart sunken into the depths of her chest. The lady passed him with her head hung low.

He waited a moment longer until Daenerys walked sheepishly out next. He offered the small creature a smile. She returned a sheepish one. "I've had a bed chamber prepared for you." He motioned for her to follow him. The halls were silent and still as the night. The quiet was far too eerie for Ned to take. "Daenerys," He halted their stroll. "I noticed that you have bruises on your body." The young girl stiffened. "I know that you probably don't wish to talk about it, and I wont pressure you to. I will simply tell you that you are safe now." Her eyes shot to meet his, surprise and wonder in them. "No one will ever harm you while you are under this roof, I promise."

She swallowed hard and nodded. "Thank you." Her voice was small and unemotional.

She had a hard time trusting people and he could tell. It wasn't exactly a bad thing, it was good but he just hoped he could one day earn her trust.

He offered one more smile before proceeding to the empty bed chamber.

She was stuck in awe at the environment. A white birchwood canopy was the first thing she saw, beautiful dark brown inlay carved into the wood. A wardrobe of matching beauty stood across from it and a hearth resided near a corner of the room. A single window covered by rippling curtains to the right wall from the bed gave ample moonlight for her to see but there was also a holster for a torch near the door.

"It's beautiful." She breath out heavy.

"It's all yours." He spoke, a hint of pride in his voice, likely for the environment his kingdom could provide the child.

She looked to his in surprise. "Mine?" She asked.

"Yes. I want you to stay. It isn't my choice what you do, it's yours. But if you stay, you will be treated fairly, as if you were my own daughter." He promised with his eyes.

She looked back to the room. She had never seen a room more beautiful. It was fit for a princess, something she wasn't and could never be. She felt ashamed at how much she wanted it. She wanted to say no, she wanted to go back to her brother. His cruelty and abuse is all she's ever known, he often liked to remind her of how she was unwanted, and a burden. He would say she would never be any better than their parents, and the only place she'd be any good to anyone was on her back. She took his abuse her entire life and anyone could see she deserved this, anyone but her.

"I wish to stay." She said in a small voice. She didn't want to stay but she had to. She couldn't go back there, she was afraid of what would happen. The bruises and scars on her body would forever be a reminder of what a horrible and miserable life she had led up until that point.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you? You should speak up." He spoke pridefully. He had heard but he wouldn't accept such a dainty gesture. She was too quiet and soft and he wouldn't have that, it was a dark and ominous world out there and if she didn't toughen up it would swallow her whole. She didn't need to be the sad, broken, tiny bird she was now. She needed to be a fierce creature that would fly proudly above her enemies and drown them in fire and blood if needed. She needed to be a dragon, and he would see to it that she was.

"I said I wish to stay." She held her head up and spoke true and certain.

He smiled at her softly, his eyes once again showing pride but this time for the child before him.

"Then it is settled." He smiled before turning to leave.

"King Stark?" She called to him.

"Call me Ned." The man corrected.

"Ned," She tested the name on her tongue. "Thank you."

"No need for that child. You are family now. Rest." He smiled once more before taking his leave.

She couldn't sleep. Strange place, strange people, everything was new and she wasn't sure if that was good or bad. The young girl snuck out of her bed chambers to explore. She crept around the palace in silence, dodging guards and doing her best not to wake anyone. In her blind venture she found herself in the horse stables. She had always loved animals and so it was as good a place as any to hang out for a while. She slow walked through the stables eyeing every nag from old to young. She marvelled at the sleeping creatures. They almost seemed to snore, allowing soft huffing sounds.

She continued on watching in fascination until she came upon one pony that wasn't asleep. In fact it was standing, head poking out of it's stall and eyes pinned to her. She froze as she spotted the animal. A beautiful grey steed who's coat nearly looked silver in the torchlight that beamed from a pillar only a few feet above. "Hello there." She spoke softly as she continued walking toward him. The nearly grown horse nodded it's head with a neigh as if to say it back.

Daenerys stepped up to the stall. Her hand caressingly found the nag's nose. "What's your name?" Her voice was sweet and innocent. The pony nearly purred at the touch.

"Nice night for a stroll." A voice came from behind her.

Daenerys turned to face the sound, a boy standing about a foot taller than her. Dark mischievous blue eyes bore down on her. He was probably about seventeen. A thin blonde scruff covering his face. Curly locks of blonde hair hung loosly from atop his head.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing out with the horses at this late an hour?" He grinned menacingly at the young girl.

"One would almost think she was waiting for us." Another kid appeared, probably just a year younger than the first.

"Is that right?" The first guy asked as three more kids appeared almost from nowhere.

Her feet stuck in place as they stalked toward her. She couldn't find the strength to move an inch. The boys inched closer and closer until the first boy's face was only inches from Daenerys'. She leaned her head back away from his as he breathed down on her. A rough hand coming up so jagged fingers could ghost over her cheek and chin. "Look at you, quite a perfect face." He roughly gripped at her face. She let out a low and pained gasp. "I wonder if your tits are as perfect."

His murderous gaze trailed past her head for a second, expression morphing into an emotionless stare. Eyes buck wide but still holding all the malice in the world. He released her face from his grasp and took a slow step backward. The other boys followed suit as the leader turned tail and ran.

Daenerys released a breath she didn't know she was holding. She heard the sound of a sword being sheathed behind her. She turned to come into eye contact with the two boys who had sat with the king at his nameday feast earlier.

"Are you alright?" The closer boy asked, hair black as the night sky. His auburn eyes watching her intently for any sign of pain.

She nodded.

"I'm Jon Snow. This is my brother Robb Stark, and our dire wolves Grey Wind and Ghost." He motioned between them all.

"You are the king's sons?" She asked in a low voice.

"Yes, we are." Robb spoke up. "And we should get going. Those bloodthirsty bastards will get us all in trouble." Jon gave Robb a look of disapproval. "Sorry." He rolled his eyes as he walked toward the exit, the others in tow.

"Your name is Daenerys, right?" Jon asked as they walked behind his brother.

She nodded. "Daenerys Storm." Robb stiffled a chuckle. Jon glared at the back of his brother's head, he knew what was going through his mind.

"What were you doing out here?" Jon asked. She couldn't tell if he was scolding her or just worried for her well being. The tone in his voice indicated the latter but she'd been deceived by kind voices before.

"Why are you out?" She asked in return.

Jon gave her a confused look that simply turned into an understanding one. He looked forward before answering. "I am to be the Guardian of the Seven Kingdoms someday. I train day and night, when the time comes I don't want to let anyone down." A hint of doubt found his voice but quickly vanished, undoubtably due to the passing thought that he might not live up to the title of guardian.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

"You didn't answer my question." He said after a few moments of silence.

It took her a moment to answer. "I was having difficulty sleeping."

"Do you always have difficulty sleeping?" His gaze landed upon her.

"Yes." She answered simply.

"Why?" She didn't answer, not with words, not with body language, not at all. "You can trust me, you do realize?" He asked and she only looked at him. "Fine, I wont ask about your past. I'll tell you about mine." She turned her head forward again. "I'm a bastard like you," He began and her eyes found him in a second. "I'm not as foolish as I may appear." He offered a smile which she seemed to ignore. "I've never met my mother, and my only brother is Robb. Something he often makes me regret."

"Piss off, Jon." Robb called back.

Jon laughed at him, Daenerys giggled slightly at the two. "We were a mischievous pair, the two of us. We were like sly foxes reaking havoc across the city. Once, during winter we made a giant hill of snow and pushed it over on one our father's guards. He chased all throughout the kingdom, all the while screaming to us that he'd catch us. We knew he wouldn't, he was the slowest of all the guards, that's why we chose him." She once again let out a giggle.

"Your father must have been livid when he caught you." She finally showed some interest in the conversation.

"Oh, we don't get caught." He gave a sly grin.

"Don't?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Do you believe our father allows us out so late?" Robb finally turned around.

"You are princes. I thought princes behaved as they wished."

Robb scoffed at that. "I think you've been misinformed."

"Have I?"

"As sons of the king everyone always expects perfection of us. They want us to be saints. Occasionally we just want to get away from all the pressure." Jon said. "It's the reason we come out late at night."

"I thought you were out training?" She grinned like she knew that he was lying.

"I was, we were." He pointed between he and Robb. "Would you like to see." Jon stopped, eliciting a mirroring action from the others.

"Is it dangerous?"

"A bit." He shrugged with a sheepish grin. He lifted an eyebrow as if to ask once more. She nodded. "I'll require you to give me a task, anything you wish."

She gave a thoughtful face for a moment until she eventually shrugged to him. "I can't think of anything."

Jon gave a displeased expression before turning his attention to Robb who still stood a ways away from them, he looked as he stood sentry. "Robb," He called. Robb's head slowly turned to face them. "I need a task."

"We should be getting back." Robb answered him.

"Well then, we had better make haste." He gave his brother a look that told him he wasn't going to budge on the subject.

Robb puffed in irritation. "Fine," He looked around. "Fetch me my practice sword."

Jon gave a triumphant smile. "That's better." He glanced at Daenerys as he turned to face his beloved pet dire wolf. Jon's chocolate eyes bore into Ghost's blood red ones. The animal's tongue retreated into it's mouth as it's eyes seemed to grow wider. Jon nodded and the creature broke away into a sprint.

Four pairs of eyes watched Ghost disappear around a corner and return with a sturdy wooden sword. He came to a halt and dropped the sword at Jon's feet. Jon bent down to pick up the sword and toss it to Robb.

Daenerys was fascinated at the act, he could give the animal comands through his mind, that was nothing short of a miracle if she'd ever seen one.

Jon looked to her expectantly, no doubt awaiting praise. Daenerys held her head high. "That's a neat trick." Her voice now regal, her face unimpressed.

Robb barked in laughter at his own brother's misfortune. Jon stood shocked but didn't speak for a moment. He slowly began to smile before releasing a light laugh and turning to walk away.

"You alright Snow? You look as if you're ready to cry." Robb teased.

"No worst than you when you tried to kiss Talisa Maegyr." Jon grinned.

"You swore you would never speak of that again." Robb scolded, smile since wiped away.

"Did I? I don't recall." He feigned innocence.

Robb seethed with anger, turned a glare toward Jon and walked away in a fast pace, his loyal wolf at his side.

Jon slowed his walk to even out his pace with Daenerys', who had been walking with Ghost.

"I know you don't trust me. Or my brother, my father, our city. I know you have scars," She stiffened. "on the outside as well as the inside. I can't pretend to know what you've endured. I'm sorry you had to go through it." She looked at him. "But I swear to you, on my honor, that you are safe here." Her eyes sparkled with wonder. They shared a moment, eyes stuck to each other until he spoke again. "But you wont be here forever, at some point you may find yourself alone." The thought frightened her to the core. She was always afraid of being alone, she'd suffered loneliness before and she never wanted to again. "I want to teach you." Her eyes grew again, that was unexpected. "If you ever find yourself alone you should be able to defend yourself."

"Why? Why would you help me?"

"Your surname." He answered having known what she was going to ask. "Storm, you are a bastard like me and the life of a bastard is a lonesome one. There are not many people who will respect you, no one will protect you. You must protect yourself, the only way to do that is to make them fear you."

"I'm don't think..."

"Dany..."

"Don't call me that." She cut him off. There was no anger or hate behind her voice, just pain.

"I'm sorry." He offered a sincere expression. Her mouth didn't respond but her eyes did. They shifted slowly to show that she wasn't angry. Once he understood that it was okay he continued. "I've seen the bruise, on your left shoulder. I know you've been physically harmed probably more times than I can imagine. And you can call me a soft hearted fool, or say that I'm over stepping my bounderies, but I simply want to help, I want to make sure it never happenes to you again."

She couldn't tear her eyes away from his. It wasn't something she was used to; someone offering help. He was sincere, she could hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes, feel it in the air. He seemed to care, it's not right for someone to care for her, not someone who's only known her for a few hours. What was she to think, what was she to say?

He gave her a look as if to ask her permisson. She wanted to say no, with all of her heart she wanted to say no, but at that moment staring into those chocolate eyes she couldn't bring herself to turn him down. She slowly nodded her head to him, relief over flowed his pupils and a smile slowly spread across his face.

For some reason he couldn't find his voice. He had so much he wanted to say but the words wouldn't leave his throat. He wanted to tell her that he would protect her, that she would never again be a victim to anyone, that she was safe but he simply couldn't speak. Even though not a single word came out he could see she somehow understood everything that he wasn't saying.

She offered a simple smile as if to say 'I know'.


	3. 1 Family Matters

1\. Family Matters

Jon sat on the balcony of his bed chambers. He looked out over King's Landing from Red Keep, a steel sword lay across his lap as he sharpened it. Fierce strokes with the whetstone sent sparks flying. To say that he was angry wasn't quite accurate, he was frustrated. Six years had passed, he now lived in Red Keep with Rhaegar Targaryen, the Guardian. Jon had learned so much from the man, he was like a second father to him.

He stared out over the city, vendors brought out their best products, people dressed in their finest garments, gold cloaks cleaned up around the city. It was early in the light of day and the city prepared for the arrival of the seven kings. The Counsil of Kings only ever met in King's Landing because it was nuetral ground for them all. It was the home of the Guardian and the Guardian would never allow any harm to come to any member of a royal house.

There had been turmoil brewing between some of the kingdoms and the kings would all meet tonight to settle the dispute.

The unmistakable sound of a knock against the sprucewood door grabbed Jon's attention. Ghost's head popped up from the spot he lay in next to Jon's chair. His tail wagged showing that he knew who it was. "Come in." Jon called.

The door openned slowly and in walked one of the maids. She was young, maybe a few years his elder. Firey red hair hang in a ponytail, sea green eyes found him. She was the most beautiful of all the maids. "My lord." She smiled.

"Jon." He corrected her. He found himself correcting the staff more often than not. He didn't really like the title of lord, but since he arrived in King's Landing everyone seemed to be adamant on calling him lord.

"Jon." She offered another smile. "Our Lord Gaurdian requests your presence in the dining area."

"Thank you, Brida." He smiled back. "I'll be right there."

Ghost pranced over to her and nudged at her hand which reached out to him. Her fingers glided through his fluffy snow-white mane. "Hi there, sweetheart." Everyone in King's Landing admired Ghost but somehow the animal had created a bond with her.

She eyed Jon once more before closing the door behind her. Jon sheathed his weapon and left his chambers to meet with Rhaegar. Ghost kept close.

Jon entered the room and immediately spotted Rhaegar sitting at the circular table that was used primarily for meals. He expressed his enjoyment of the meal with his face. "My young apprentice, come, sit, feast with me." Jon took a seat across from the man. A maid came quickly to set a plate in front of him. "Something bother's you." Jon gave him a look like he was wrong. "You were not training before dawn. Did you decide to allow yourself rest today?"

"No. It's..." He stopped when he noticed Rhaegar laughing.

"I am jesting." Jon sighed and looked down at his food. "I understand it's been a very long time since you have seen your family and you probably have unsolved issues with them, but this visit is not about you, nore will it become such. You mustn't allow your personal feelings to interfere with the affairs of the realm.

Jon sat silently and listened. He didn't look up from his meal, he didn't eat his meal either.

"Should I be concerned with you standing in on the council meeting later?"

"No." Jon sighed. "I'll keep my concerns my own."

Rhaegar looked surprised. "I might be a bit concerned now, you gave me no contest."

"Well, you have taught me to listen more than I speak."

"I am glad, you finally understand. Now, you must eat. The first arrivals will soon be with us and we must be presentable. And respectful." He added, pointedly at Jon.

Jon and Rhaegar stood at the front gate of Red Keep awaighting the arrival of the royal families. They both wore a black leather tunic with dark red stitching around the wrists and the neckline. They wore dark red trousers and black leather boots. The final touch was the red dragon pin they wore on their upper left chests. The dragon was the sigil of a guardian, the center piece to it all. Ghost stood close as well, the maids had dressed him in a black leather tunic that only covered his torso and a black metal headpiece with the same red dragon sigil on it.

The first arrival was House Lannister of the Westerlands. King Tywin his daughter Cersei and his son Tyrion, his oldest son Jaime had stayed behind at Casterly Rock.

King Robert Baratheon of The Stormlands along with his two brothers Stannis and Renly showed next. The man was upset that he wasn't greeted with wine but changed his expression when he saw Jon. "Your grace." Jon bowed slightly.

"Stop it." Robert demanded opening his arms to the young man. "You're family."

"I am happy to see you." Jon hugged the man.

"As am I."

"King Baratheon," Rhaegar gave the man a smile. "Welcome to King's Landing, I hope your travels were peaceful."

"I was almost brought to heel by a bloody bore but here I am." Robert laughed aloud.

"You are the second to arrive, King Lannister is already inside. Brida here," He pointed to the young maid. "will show you to your chambers where you may rest away your weary travels."

"Thank you." Baratheon said in what may have been the nices voice anyone had ever heard from the man. He began walking toward the castle, closely paced with Brida. "What must a king do to have a cup of wine in this city?"He spoke to her as they disappeared.

The next to arrive was Prince Doran Martell of Dorne. He was a nice man, showed pure respect to the guardian and his apprentice. His brother Oberyn and sister Elia acompanied him.

King Walder Frey of the Riverlands arrived with a young girl. She looked to be only fourteen and he was easily sixty. It took all that Jon had not to force the man to eat his own cock when he gripped at the young girl's ass. Jon's eyes flared in ferocious anger. Rhaegar noticed. He sent the old man inside with haste.

"You must control your temper." He spoke to Jon once the Freys had gone.

"I was." Jon said simply as he glared at the retreating form of Walder.

"You were trying and struggling, I could see it in your eyes. How challenging do you think it would be for someone like Walder Frey, a man who spends every passing moment in anger?"

"I'm sorry." Jon spoke low.

"Don't be sorry, boy. Be better. One second of an unwelcomed glance could spark an eternity long battle."

"If a man would start a war simply by the reason of a glance, he does not deserve to be a king." Jon said spitefully.

"I wont say you are wrong. Most kings are foolish simple minded men who only want to be king for the power to kill. What separates a great king from a foolish king is the way he utilizes his power."

"Must every conversation become a lesson?" Jon joked.

"A smart man will find a lesson in every conversation so yes." Rhaegar smiled at him sarcastically.

"Of course, I was foolish to think otherwise." Jon joked as another family arrived.

King of the Iron Islands Balon Greyjoy. His son Theon, maybe a year Jon's junior and his daughter Yara around a year older than Jon stood faithfully at his side. They exchanged pleasantries and proceeded inside.

"My Lord Guardian." Queen Olenna Tyrell spoke. She approached slowly with her head held high.

"Your Grace." Rhaegar bowed. Jon followed suit.

"My grandchildren Margaery and Loras." The woman motioned. Margaery curtseyed and Loras bowed respectfully.

"I do not see your son."

"My good-for-nothing son Mace. He remaines back home in Highgarden. I allowed him to stay behind and rule in my absence." She laughed slightly. "Jon Snow, our Lord Apprentice. Tell me, has your father yet arrived?"

"I'm sorry my queen, he hasn't." Jon answered.

"I wish to speak to him presently when he arrives."

"I will be certain to tell him, your grace." Jon offered a smile.

"No need, I believe he knows." Ned's rhaspy voice appeared from nowhere.

Their collective suprised gazes landed upon the man. "Father." Jon exclaimed. They shared a lengthy hug. Jon thought he would be angry when he saw his father, scream at the man, maybe threaten him. But six years had passed and that was a long time to hold a grudge, especially against Eddard Stark.

"My son. The north misses you greatly." Ned spoke with a hefty tone.

"And I it." Jon said, tears nearly welled into his throat.

As the two pulled apart Jon spotted Grey Wind's pelt. The dire wolf found his brother in an instant, grey and white blended together in a playful attack. "Snow!" Robb called.

Jon's anger-stricken brown eyes found Robb. "Stark." He spoke low. Robb's eyes widened, he had hoped his brother would have forgiven him by now but he should have known Jon wouldn't bend on this. Everyone else watched the two in quiet anxiety, no one knew what to expect, not even Robb or Jon. Jon's eyes found Rhaegar and he could nearly hear the guardian's words. 'Control your temper. Do not allow anger to dictate your every decision.' Jon's eyes grew soft and he forced a smile to his face. "It is refreshing to see your ugly mug."

Robb finally smiled as well. "I thought you would still be angry." He sighed as they hugged.

"I am." Jon sighed as well. "But not with you. And not with her. It is just difficult for me."

"I know it is, I suppose I just hoped that our time apart would help us heal."

"No amount of time will heal this, but I hope someday we may once again be bestfriends."

"I hope so too, baby brother." Robb stepped back and now Jon could see her.

Platinum hair braided high. Her white dress ripling in the wind and a midnight blue shawl covering her shoulders. She stood with an air about her, a regal quality that Jon had never seen, although he adored the way she looked with it.

"My Lord Apprentice." She curtseyed him.

His face showed utter shock. He reorganized his features into a calm expression.

"My soon-to-be Queen." He bowed back to her.

Their eyes latched and wouldn't allow each other away from their sights.

"No more formalities." Rhaegar spoke aloud, his hands clasped behind his back. "Shall we go inside."

"Please." Ned ushered.

"Our staff have prepared a feast for you all." He lead everyone inside. "Brida will show you to your chambers and we will see everyone in the Great Hall for the feast.

"Hello." Brida's voice startled a few of them. Ghost perked at the woman. Tail moving with haste as he jumped onto the lady. "Oh, Ghost..." She laughed.

"Ghost." Jon called and the wolf dropped back to all fours.

"It's quite all right, Jon." She laughed again as they both shared a stare. "He's just a bit playful today."

Jon smiled to the girl. Rhaegar cleared his throat.

"Oh," Brida startled. "I am very sorry."

"It's fine, Brida." Rhaegar said.

"Please, follow me." She looked to the Stark and Tyrell parties.

Rhaegar gave Jon a look as the others disappeared. "You wish to bed Brida?"

Jon's face paled. "I don't understand what you mean."

"I mean, she likes you and it appears that you like her."

"Well, I don't."

Rhaegar laughed. "Jon Snow, always the child."

"I'm beginning to think you find joy in my discomfort."

"A simple pleasure." Rhaegar shrugged. "Come, we must prepare for the feast."

The Great Hall was alive with merriment. The cream colored walls paired with the black wool carpet made for an extravagant atmosphere. Rhaegar sat at the high table allong with a man named Petyr Baelish, the owner of the most famouse whore house in all of Westeros and a man known only as Varys, the lord of spies.

There were tables placed about for the royal families. Each family sat at the table with their corresponding house sigil. It was a happy event, everyone laughing and joking among themselves. Jon sat at his family's table, he had missed this, having fun with them and not being angry like usual. He smiled and laughed and played along to jokes. He had missed it so dearly but he knew it would never last. Reality would soon become a problem and things would return to their dark ways.

"Have you spoken with Queen Olenna yet?" Jon asked his father.

"Not yet, I will." Ned answered.

"It sounded urgent."

"Don't worry my son. I will speak with her after the feast. Now, I am fairly certain that after six years in King's Landing you must have some stories to share."

"Aye, I've seen some strange things. The Guardian doesn't fancy my being outside of the walls often, he thinks I'll get myself into too much trouble."

"And is he wrong?" Robb chimed in.

"Not entirely." Jon said under his breath.

"So I assume you require a chaperone when you are away." Robb laughed at him.

"Only for the dangerous things." Jon joked back.

"Enough jesting, tell us the a story." Ned put a stop to the joking around.

"Okay, um." Jon began to think. "There was a time where the Guardian and I voyaged to the Wall."

"You always wanted to see the wall." Robb said.

"Aye, and it was everything I thought. I trained with some of the Night's Watch, went beyond the wall..."

"Did you see any white walkers?"

"No, but I fought some of the freefolk."

"Freefolk?" Daenerys asked.

"Wildlings." He elaborated.

"More wine, Jon?" Brida appeared with a pitcher in hand.

"Uhm, yes. Thank you, Brida." He smiled adoringly at her and she him. She leaned forward to fill his cup with the red liquid.

Robb watched as she walked away before he turned a raised brow to his brother.

"What?" Jon asked.

"Oh nothing." Robb snickered. Ned burst into laughter and Robb followed. Daenerys sat silently with a forced smile.

"She has eyes for you." Ned supplied.

"Brida and I are simply aquainted, nothing more." Jon assured, his eyes found Daenerys instinctively.

"Your mouth whispers lies but your eyes speak volumes of truth." Robb said.

"It matters none, a guardian takes no wife." Jon said, his tone indication that he'd rather not talk of the subject.

"Really?" Robb was shocked.

"It is true." Ned confirmed.

"I had no idea." Robb looked at Jon sincerely. "This means you will never know the pleasure of being with a woman."

Daenerys spit her drink as Jon's wide eyes pinned to Robb. "I'm sure that isn't..." Ned stopped talking as he noticed the expression on his son's face. "Never?" He asked in a hushed tone. Jon only looked at him. "Don't worry my son, there are other pleasures in life beyond bedding a woman.

Jon shut his eyes tightly and allowed his forehead to collide with the table beneath him. He whispered something that was inaudible to the others.

"Okay, okay. Let's not embarrass our Lord Apprentice any longer." Ned smiled.

"Thank you." Jon sighed.

"Well then Jon, since you are to be celibate, you would not mind if I... spoke... with Brida would you?" Robb smiled mockingly.

"Don't you already have a betrothed?" Jon glared at him, keeping his true anger behind his playful gaze.

"I'm not married yet." His smile was sly like a fox.

It only lasted a half second; the hurt look in Jon's eyes was gone before anyone could see it. "Enough talk of betrothals and sex." Jon stood.

"You're leaving?" Robb asked. "Surely you know I was only jesting."

"You know me brother, I missed my early morning session, I must make it up."

"You're leaving your family to go train?" Ned sounded disappointed.

"I just..." Jon looked defeated already. "I don't wish to argue with you all, please don't pry into it."

"Let him go father, we knew it wouldn't last long." Robb laid a hand on his fathers shoulder, his eyes on Jon.

"I'm not abandoning my family, I just..."

"Need to train, we understand." Robb said softly.

"Just go." Ned waved him off.

Jon's fingers met his waist, instinctively reaching for his sword that wasn't there. When he was nervous or irritated he would just grip his sword and it would help him calm down. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. His eyes glancing between them all. Robb looked sorrowful and Daenerys looked resentful but Ned was clearly angry. Jon took a deep breath before walking away.

Daenerys watched him disappear, doe eyes concentrated on his silky black curls.

Rhaegar watched as well, he was slightly angered that Jon couldn't finish a meal with his family but surprised at how long they had lasted. No one knew why the family had so much termoil between them but everyone knew that Jon and his father didn't see eye to eye. Only a trusted few knew that when Jon was thirteen something happened that caused him to become distant and they began to fight alot.

Jon sulked and stomped around until he found himself in a dungeon like room that rested beneath the Council Chamber. It was always dark down there even with half a dozen torches lit and no one else ever came down there. It was practically all his that's why about three and a half years ago Jon turned the place into a small practice area.

He gripped his practice sword in his hand, knuckles turning white. A murderous glare pointed at the hay-filled practice dummy that stood ahead of him. Red washing over his sight when the sword came up. He swung it, only malice in his eyes. Friction underneath his fingers, murder in his brain. He wanted to kill it, he hated being like this; in a state of pure anger. He could never calm himself when he was like this, all he could do was fight until his body could no longer, until his legs would give out underneath him.

He struck the makeshift human, anger released with every strike. The dummy flew from side to side, bled hay onto the floor. The sack that made a head fell and rolled until it reached the wall. The thick wooden pole that kept it standing snapped in half and splintered in all directions. When the torso was on the ground Jon plunged his practice sword into the chest.

He took a step back to catch his breath, staring at the massacre in front of him. He imagined if that had been a real person and felt sick for it. He couldn't help the darkness that broiled inside him like bile trying to escape. He always told everyone (even himself) that he trained hard to be a more fierce warrior, but in truth he was trying to control himself. People thought he was just that good a fighter but he was only loosing control of himself, some war-born spirit within him would assume control of his body, it wasn't him.

"Is he dead yet?" A soft voice spoke.

He turned toward her, platinum blonde hair down elegantly, purple crystal like eyes on him. She was gorgeos underneath the torchlight.

"My apologies, Lord Apprentice." She bowed.

"You know I hate that." He said.

"What was I to say to get you to speak?"

"How did you know I was here?" He asked.

"After you left I heard some of the maids talking about how you spend hours down here." He didn't respond to that. "Are you still angry with me?" She asked a sadness coating her tone.

"I was never angry with you, I could never be angry with you." He answered.

"Then why wont you speak to me?"

"I don't know what to say."

"What about sorry?" She tried to keep her voice strong but anyone could hear the crack of sorrow. "Sorry for leaving you behind the way that I did." Her voice got a bit louder.

"What was I to do?" He all but yelled at her. "I had no choice."

"Yes you did. You chose to leave, you didn't even tell me. No ravens, no messengers, nothing. You passed by Nightfell to reach the wall and still nothing. You abandoned me..."

"What would you expect, were we to run away together, me the apprentice to the guardian, you a queen to be?"

"I would sooner be poor with you than to be a queen."

"But you didn't say that. You said nothing."

"I was as shocked as you. I had no idea what to say."

"Obviously you still don't, you come here dolled up like some sort of princess, one would believe you have moved on."

"It would seem that you have moved on as well."

"Brida?" Jon asked in bewilderment. "Brida is only a friend."

"She's a maid, and she should not adress you as her friend."

"And how should she adress me?"

"My love would seem fitting for you two."

"You are a fool." He spat. "I have loved only you, from you first night in Nightfell. There hasn't been a day by that I haven't thought of you, that I haven't missed you dearly. I didn't write to you or tell you that I was leaving because it was too painful. What was I to stay and watch you marry my brother, bare his children, was I to smile and wish the two of you good fortune?"

She was speechless. Her amethyst eyes hugged him like a cloak. Her mouth slightly ajar, her hands clasped together. A thin inhale and she finally spoke. "I missed you too." She sprinted for him although they weren't far from eachother. His opened arms encircled her when she collided with him. They watched eachother with glossy eyes, unshed tears wanting to escape. "I love you and only you." Their lips met in a rushed fumble. Tongues tangled in one another, they found themselves on the floor, tearing eachother's clothing away. She stopped him as the last of their clothing fell away.

"Will you do it?" He gave a confused look. "The thing you used to do with your tongue."

He kissed her deeply before trailing down to her special area. Her fingers grasped at his hair as she drowned in pleasure. Her bottom lip quivered and she whispered. "I love you Jon Snow, you are mine and I am yours, for now and always."

 **A/N: Thank you for reading so far. This chapter may seem a bit rushed maybe because it was, who knows. I really want to know what everyone thinks so go ahead and review. I hope I can keep everyone interested in my story. Also I hope everyone understood all the points I've made in this chapter. Thank you all and goodnight!**


	4. 2 Playing with Fire

[Flashback]

It had been only a fortnight since Jon had began teaching Daenerys. They could only train in the night when no one was awake to bother them. Most of her training was with daggers; she complained that the sword and shield was too heavy and the daggers were small enough that she could conceal them in most of her clothing. He also taught her to use a bow although she knew a fair amount about that already.

She was finally opening up to him and he couldn't be happier. And she was fierce when they trained. She often lost against him when they sparred but she was relentless and never gave up.

"When you lung forward you must protect yourself from your opponents attempts. Keep your arms up, don't drop them after your attack. Try again." Jon taught.

"That's easier said than done, you are arguably the best fighter in the north. Would I not be better suited against someone more of my own skill level?"

"Your opponents wont see it that way. Try again." He said again.

Daenerys lunged forward slicing at him, he caught her arm but she yanked it away. He followed up and threw a punch that she ducked. She pushed him and he stumbled a bit. When she saw his chest exposed she attacked landing her dagger right above his heart. If he didn't stop her arm she would have pierced skin.

"Better." He smiled.

She couldn't help her own smile at the win. It was the first time she beat him even though she knew he had held back. Still she couldn't help her smile. His smile was gone and he began to stare at her. She noticed but couldn't look away.

"Are you happy being here?" He suddenly asked.

She wanted to answer but she didn't know how to answer that question. "I don't know." She spoke honestly.

"Do you miss your home... or your parents?"

"No." She spoke so blunt it almost hurt them both.

"Why?"

She gave him a look that said 'don't ask me that' but he returned one that showed she wasn't getting out of it.

She sheathed her practice daggers into her belt and took a seat on a nearby bench. Jon followed.

"My mother died during birth, I never knew her. And my father wasn't a very nice man, he was much like my brother. They blamed me for my mother's death. They were right to." She spoke softly.

"No!" Her eyes snapped to him. "They were wrong, and so are you. Your mother gave her life for yours. Your father and brother are simply moronic for thinking otherwise. You may think that you deserve the hell that they put you through but you don't. And they will never harm you again I promise." He reached up to wipe away a tear on her cheek. The glassy look of her eyes reflected the stars above them. She sniffled as a smile found her face. His heart reached for her from the confines of his chest.

"And what about you?" She asked almost suddenly. His face was contorted in confusion. "You told me that you are a bastard. Have you ever seen your mother?"

"No. Like your own, my mother died giving birth to me. I find myself wondering most nights. Wondering what she looked like... what she sounded like... how her touch would have felt. I bet she was a sweet woman, probably enjoyed helping others. Sometimes I like to play a game with myself; what would I give to have a mother for a moment. My father, my brother... my home, my life."

"What would you give?" Her voice was barely a whisper now.

"Anything... anything at all. I would give my life, I would damn my soul to the seventh hell. I would conquer the seven kingdoms and gift them to the gods for a single moment with her. I know I sound mad and I feel worst for thinking such things. But I know that if I were to answer in any other way..."

"...It would be a lie." She finished his sentence.

"I know it makes me a bad person, but I must be honest with myself. The honest truth is that I would give anything I can get my hands on to meet her, even someone else's life." The look in his eyes showed that he was lost, inside he couldn't find himself anymore.

"Perhaps... perhaps it makes you a bad person, maybe it doesn't. I understand the feeling, I have felt it on many occasion. Perhaps if my mother did not die my father and brother would not have shown me such hostility. But it cannot be that simple." His eyes flickered, a tiny spark of hope in a sea of self-doubt. "If your mother was the woman that you believe she was, she would not want that. She wouldn't want you to conquer for her, or kill for her. She wouldn't want you to die for her, she would want you to live, live and be happy."

"What if I can't be happy without her?" He was the one whispering now. Tears glassed over his eyes threatening to escape.

"You must." Daenerys spoke with so much emotion in her voice it almost felt as if his mother was speaking to him through her. "You are a good person. Good people deserve happiness."

"How can you believe so surely that I can be happy."

"I have to. I must believe that good people can lead good lives. Otherwise what is the point in life?"

He used his fist to wipe away his tears, trying desperately to get his emotions under control.

Daenerys found herself reaching for his hand, intertwining their fingers. He allowed it. She used her free hand to wipe away his remaining tears, her palm rested against his cheek. The look on her face only made his tears fall harder.

She wanted to help him, to make his pain stop. She felt useless, the guy that has done nothing except help her since she came here to this foreign place, and she could do nothing to help him... almost nothing. She pulled his face toward hers, her leaning toward him until their lips met. A sweet and salty kiss until Jon pulled away from her, releasing his hand from hers.

"We can't." He turned away from her.

"Why can't we?" Her eyes were pleading.

"You deserve better. You deserve a better life than a bastard can give."

"And what do you deserve? What do you want?" He looked at her again. "I've been here a fortnight and I have yet to see you want anything for yourself."

"It is not my place to want." He was being modest, she knew it.

"Yet you still do. I can see the want in your eyes, and I can see the unhappiness. I want as well. You have been only kind to me since we've met. I want to return that kindness. I do not only want to see you happy, I want to make you happy."

Jon only stared at her. Sucking in deep breaths and releasing them. Contemplating what to say in his mind. This was a situation he never thought he would be in. The women only ever chased Robb, they never wanted him. He knew what she was saying but he also knew he could never take a wife; he was to be the next Guardian. But he wasn't the guardian, not now, not yet. Why suffer until then when he could be happy. "I want you." He whispered and she kissed him again. He let it deepen and engulf him. His lips fumbled over hers, him not having much experience in this.

She released his lips from her hold. "Come with me." She insisted and he complied.

She led him into her bed chamber, welcomed him inside as she lit the hearth and locked the door.

*Warning: Graphic content beyond this line!!*

Orange glow flickered and danced across their skin, warmth present in the air fighting against the biting cold that threatened to penetrate the room. He held his breath when she stopped in front of him. Her eyes suggestive as she shed her leather tunic.

Her chest became bare for all the world to see. Her trousers were relinquished to reveal her private area to him. He didn't dare look away from her for a second. Jon watched, drank in every inch, curve, and bruise of her body. Before she was beautiful. But now she was unparalleled. He had never seen a sight so amazing. Her scars and bruises only a testament to how strong she was, how much pain she had withstood, she survived.

She waited for him to react, to hold her or kiss her or even show disgust. He reached out a hand to allow his fingers to ghost over a long jagged scar on the left of her abdomen. "I had no idea." His voice was a wisper. She turned her body away from him covering what scars she could with her hands. "Don't." He sounded close, as if he were on her shoulder speaking into her ear. "You don't have to hide them from me. You should be proud of your scars."

She glanced up at him over her shoulder. "Why?" A whisper.

"Someone did this to try and break you, but you survived, and you moved on. Broken bones heal stronger." His voice was low but not quite a whisper.

Her hands slowly fell away from her body. His hands slowly found her waist. His lips found her neck and her body found sensual bliss. He led her to the bed and she fell onto the thick fur blanket. Jon began to strip himself of his own clothing now. She stared at his body, his nakedness, until he climbed over her. He hesitated to kiss her, electing to give her a questioning gaze as if to ask if she was sure.

"I trust you." She whispered with an innocent nod.

He kissed her deep and passionately, placed a burning trail of kisses down her torso spending moments on her breast before moving along to her belly button. Her eyes went wide when he continued down to her vagina, kissing at the sensitive place before sliding his tongue over the clit. He tasted her in his mouth and loved it. His mouth sucled at her, his teeth biting down gently and sucking at the place were the white pain resided.

She threw her head back, wanted to scream at the sensation. She had to bite down on her fist to keep a wail from coming out. Her chest rose and fell in short labored breaths. Her free hand gripped at his curls. She released a loud gasp when his tongue slipped in and his fingers rubbed from the outside. Her voice became lost, she was experiencing something completely new to her. A quiver progressed through her body beginning in her toes and residing in her bottom lip. This was a feeling she hadn't known. Like something was releasing from her. It wasn't just pleasure, it was euphoria.

Jon ceased his touch on her and watched her ride her wave of extacy. Her back arched and her eyes shut tight as her own hands roamed her body. Her pussy now swollen and coated in clear fluid.

As Daenerys began to descend from her sexual high her eyes fell upon him in complete lust, a single finger coaxed him to come to her. Jon climbed over her supporting his weight on his forarm until she flipped him onto his back, herself now ontop stradling him. She kissed him passionately, his hard cock knocking at her entrance, pleading for admittance. Her hand reached down to hold him steady as she lowered onto it.

A gasp escaped the both of them when she bucked her hips. She slowed her movements and allowed him to ready himself. Once he nodded she began to lift and lower ontop of him. Over and over bringing him to her level of satisfaction. She snickered to herself at the faces he made, one could easily see that it was his first time.

Her wet walls tightened on his rod when he turned her over and began to fuck her. Plunging deep into her as far as she went. With every pump he thrusted quicker and harder. She leaned up to kiss him, tongues fighting for dominance, moans moving from one mouth to the other. His hands gripped at her ass when hers found his back. He put every ounce of power he had into his final thrust, loud and heavy moans escaping the two of them.

Daenerys kissed him again and he slowly fell onto the bed.

*Graphic content over!!*

Kings Landing, present day.

Jon walked through the halls of Red Keep. He passed several rooms where others spoke and whispered about secrets and such.

He found himself outside his father's bed chamber, listening to him speak with Olenna Tyrell.

"Ned, do you not see the appeal in having our two houses join in alliance? Yours; the most powerful family in all the region, mine; the richest. We would create a dynasty that could last for centuries to come." Olenna poured herself a drink as she spoke.

"I would be foolish not to see the appeal. We would be a force to be reckoned with surely, but as I have before mentioned: my son is already promised to another." Ned walked to a window, his hands held behind his back.

"But is this other of a noble house? Is this other the most beautiful in all the lands? Can this other bring about a new era to the house of Stark?"

"Olenna, you of all know how I feel about keeping my word. It would be dishonorable for me to change that now, for an alliance, for coin."

"Your son would understand, as would his betrothed. I urge you Ned, give more thought to this proposal. Sleep it over, take your time. But do not take too long, I fear our enemies already plot against us." She turned to leave.

"I understand your fear but I will not move on this subject. Robb Stark will marry Daenerys Storm."

Olenna turned to face him again. An outraged expression coated her face. "A bastard. You will refuse to marry your son to my granddaughter in favor of a bastard? What exactly do you have up your sleeve Eddard?"

"I believe it's getting late, Olenna. You should return to your chamber and rest." Ned all but dismissed the woman.

"I will, but Ned, your stubborness will be the death of our houses."

Jon moved along when he heard her stalking toward the door.

Jon had met Margaery Tyrell, she was truely a beauty. He knew Robb would leap at the chance to marry her. He knew that Robb would much rather be married to Margaery than to Daenerys.

Jon's face split into a sinister grin. The cogs and wheels inside his mind were turning fiercly. He was devising a skeem, something that would finally give him what he always wanted. A chance at happiness, no matter the cost.


End file.
